


Baggage Claim

by thejokeristhethief



Series: Planes, Trains, and Automobiles [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Death Threats, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Multi, Past Abuse, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 13:24:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7846819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejokeristhethief/pseuds/thejokeristhethief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wash gets an unpleasant and distressing phone call from his ex. York is there to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baggage Claim

**Author's Note:**

> This is set a few months after Flying High. There are currently several WIP fics that go in between them, as well as a prequel.

“I miss you.” Those words might as well be carved into his chest, right above his heart. Everything from the simple and quiet way it’s stated to the sentence itself is nothing but painful. Tilting the phone away from his mouth, Wash takes a shaky breath. He can’t afford to let this get to him. Not again. Not after last time. A stray tear slides down his cheek. “Baby, are you there? Come on, say something. Please… Davey, you can’t tell me you don’t miss me. I love you so much… Dammit David! Answer me. Now. Don’t make me find you. I will find you. And there will be consequences. You won’t like them. So tell me where you are, I’ll come get you and we can put this all behind us. OK baby?”

His hand trembles as more tears streak down his face. Despite his best efforts, a whimper ekes its way from between his lips. A sharp intake of breath on the other end of the phone precedes another round of wheedling and badgering. “Ah. So you are there, pet. Good. Now why don’t you make this easy on yourself and answer me. I’m going to start counting. And before I get to five you are going to tell me where you are. If you do that your punishment won’t last long. But if you make me find you then I’ll make you wish you’d never been born. I promise you, it won’t be pretty. You won’t be pretty.”

“Please… L-le-leave me alone. St-t-top calling.” He winces at the weakness in his words, at the stutter caused by his fear. Swallowing hard, Wash takes a second to collect himself before continuing. “We are over. I don’t… I don’t love you anymore. We aren’t together. And we aren’t getting back together. So stop it.”

“Haha, very funny baby. Stop kidding around. Come home. Or let me come get you.” The words are issued like an order. Wash has always had a hard time disobeying orders, especially ones from his ex-lover. He opens his mouth to answer, but before the words make their way passed his lips, the front door slams. He jumps, spinning towards the entrance of the bedroom, eyes wide with fear. The phone hit the floor, bouncing once, as he scrambles backwards. It doesn’t stop the voice on the other end from reaching his ears. “David. Tell. Me. Where. You. Are. Now!”’

The words don’t make sense though. Why would Eaan be demanding his location while bursting into his house? Familiar footsteps come down the hall towards him as he continues his retreat. His back connects with the wall and he slides down, making himself as small as possible in the corner, tucking his knees up to his chest and burying his face in them. Silence falls for a second, before the screaming on the other end of the phone grows louder. A moment later, another voice overrides the terrible insults being thrown his way. “Wash? I’m here! Where are you babe?”

The room falls silent then, the voice on the other end of the phone cutting off abruptly. And then the yelling and cursing starts all over again, loud enough that the words are completely audible. “David, you sorry sack of shit. When I find you and whoever the fuck you’re shacking up with I’m going to skin him alive and make you watch. And then… Well. Then, I’m going to let you go. But I’ll always be around. Watching. Waiting for you to find someone else to care about. And then. Well then, I’m going to take them away from you. Again. And again. You’ll be alone and miserable for the rest of your life. You belong to me David. You will always belong t-”

“Jesus Christ that guy is a fucking asshole.” York flops down on the floor beside him, dropping the recently silenced phone by his feet. The comforting weight of his lover’s arm drops around his shoulder, tucking him in close to a warm, welcoming body. Lips press against his temple. “Don’t listen to his bullshit babe. If he comes after any of us, he’s going to be sorely surprised. I mean, have you seen North’s gun safe? And I’ve been doing martial arts training for years. Ever since I found out South can kick my ass, because let’s face it, it’s kind of terrifying when your boyfriend’s sister can take you apart in a matter of minutes. Had to learn how to defend myself against her.”

The pure honestly in York’s voice draws out a small smile; he can’t resist the amusement that comes from the mental image of South taking the man down. North’s sister is a few inches shorter than the brunette, but she’s tough as nails and knows how to use every inch of her body for maximum impact. Frankly, she _is_ a little terrifying. The thought relaxes him further. This isn’t like back in New York. The people he has in his life here know how to defend themselves. Eaan isn’t going to force York and North out of his life. Not the way Tucker was forced to flee when he left. They certainly don’t need restraining orders and police protection like Church did. Because unlike his brother the psychology nerd, North is trained for this. As a retired marine, the man has dealt with people far more dangerous than Wash’s psychotic ex boyfriend on a power trip. The reassurances he provides himself allow him to uncurl and press himself wholly into his lover’s embrace. “Thank you, York.”

“Anytime, babe. You know I’ll always be here to help dig you out of that pretty, overactive little head of yours.” The words are punctuated with another kiss to his forehead and a tightening of the arm around him. After a moment, York breaks the slightly awkward side hug, pushing himself to his feet and offering Wash a hand up. After heaving him to his feet, the brunette gives him a real kiss; one soft and full of love. “Come on, Washy. We’re gonna be late meeting North. And you know how much he hates it when we’re late. Always makes him worry.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Just let me wash my face. I’m sure I look like a mess.” Wash steals another quick kiss before heading into the bathroom to clean up. It only takes a moment before he’s ducking back into the hallway and settling under York’s arm again. They leave his apartment together, his phone forgotten, abandoned on the floor. And for the last time, David Washington checks his baggage at the door.


End file.
